Usually at night I lay down with Carson & sing him a couple songs. Tonight when I started singing some tune, he sleepily said:
“No, Mom. I want the one about how the mommy’s gonna buy me some toys and a horse.”
He was referring to “Hush little baby, don’t say a word, Mama’s gonna buy you a mockingbird” etc. Greedy little buggers, aren’t they?
The other day we were in the restroom of a restaurant. Carson was pulling his pants down in the large stall to pee in the toilet. I mentioned that I had to go too, so I’d go after him. Drawers down at his ankles, he shuffled to the side of the toilet and seriously–and generously–offered to scoot over so we could both pee at the same time like him and daddy. Knowing there were other customers in adjoining stalls, I brought my head down to his level and quietly reminded him of a previously discussed plumbing lesson, the natural result of which is that mommies always sit down to pee. He tilted his head back, a big, knowing smile on his face, and as he was nodding (and peeing), said loudly, “Oooooooooohhhhhhhhhhhhh! I GET IT!”
This one isn’t funny, just interesting.
Carson: Daddy, today we saw a man at the store who only had ONE LEG!
Trent: You know, Daddy works with a lot of people at his work who only have one leg.
C: You DO?!
T: Yeah, I help them learn to use a pretend leg or learn to walk on crutches.
C: A PRETEND leg?!
T: Yeah!
C: Why do they still have one foot left?
T: Because the other foot got hurt really bad or got really sick and they had to take it off.
C: Long, thoughtful pause. Well, where is that leg now?
T: Well, uh, it’s…buried in the ground. [He looked and me and kind of shrugged and I nodded my approval of this abridged version.]
C: WHY do they bury it?
T: Because if a leg is not attached to a body, then it just turns into a bone and it doesn’t work like a normal leg.
C: Huh…..Can I have another popsicle?
Carson: Mom, I know what God is thinking about.
Mom: You do? What is He thinking?
Carson: He’s thinking that we’re gonna have 3 kids in our family and that we’re gonna have a dog.
M: [chuckling] Oh really?
C: Yes, and we’re gonna name the baby Max and the dog Shasta.
M:Well, I think you have a better chance of having another baby than getting a dog. But we’ll just have to wait and see if God puts another baby in my tummy. And, you know, buddy, that takes a really, really long time.
C: Oh, I KNOW, Mom. First your tummy has to grow big, then you go to the hospital, then I have to go stay at Mimi’s, then I go camping and THEN we can have a new baby.
Carson is experimenting with knock-knock jokes. This is the one he tells over and over, all day long, in its many jibberish incarnations:
C: Knock-knock.
Me: Who’s there?
C: Chi-choo-ching-kaw-moo.
M: Chi-choo-ching-kaw-moo-hoo?
C: Mucka-baka-booka-zonk. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
But then, tonight, Daddy tried to start dishing back and forth with Carson on the knock-knock jokes. First, he messed up one of the oldest ones, about banana, banana, orange you glad I didn’t say banana. (He started with orange.) Then he told this classic:
Trent: Knock-knock.
Carson: Who’s there?
Trent: Dwayne.
C: Dwayne who?
T: Somebody let out the…wait…the water is…wait, how does it go again?
His tragic attempt, and horrible butchering, of a simple knock-knock joke, just sent me into a fit of giggles. And I mean, a FIT. I couldn’t gain my composure, and I’m not going to lie, I peed my pants a little. My homework assignment after this blog post is to look up some knock-knock jokes that Carson could try. And then? I’ll try to find some even easier ones for Trent.